


I Wanna Hear You Saying "Baby, Let's Go Home"

by Kufikiria



Series: It's Always Been You [19]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Mention of blood and injuries, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22367191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kufikiria/pseuds/Kufikiria
Summary: She doesn’t make a move. For two seconds, Amy doesn’t move.Which really, in comparison to the whole span of time and the universe, is nothing much — barely the blink of an eye. When your boyfriend just got run over by a bus driving at full speed, though, every one of them counts.(4x12 Canon divergence, in which Jake gets hit by a bus instead of Gina.)
Relationships: Amy Santiago & Rosa Diaz, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Series: It's Always Been You [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/963678
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	I Wanna Hear You Saying "Baby, Let's Go Home"

**Author's Note:**

> My God. I can’t believe I actually finished this story. I started writing it months ago, and had it planned for even longer than that. Yet I somehow never managed to put an end to it before now.
> 
> I won’t lie, it’s quite a “heavy” fic, far from the funny tone of the show, where everything goes wrong until they finally go right. It’s no spoiler though that everything will be well for Jake and Amy at the end of it, just like it was the case for Gina in canon. I don’t know what it says of me that this is actually the 3rd fic where I focus in one way or another on that bus event from 4x12 lmao. It has great potential for angst and I feel that we do not talk enough about this huge trauma it must have brought to the Nine-Nine.
> 
> Anyway. I want to thank my lovely “bus anon” on Tumblr, who’s been so supportive of this fic since the day I started to rant about it. This one’s for you, friend. I really hope you’ll like it and it’ll be worth the wait I put you through haha…
> 
> Oh and also: I am no medical expert AT ALL so yeah… keep that in mind while reading this, please :p

“Goodnight, babe.”

Jake’s gaze is full of love and awe when Amy draws away from their kiss and their eyes meet again. Despite his words, none of them moves just yet. They simply stand close together, with her hand resting on his cheek and her thumb softly stroking it while his own fingers are brushing over the fabric of her dress on her waist.

It’s starting to be late and the neighborhood is quiet, except for the sound of the occasional cars passing behind them or the steps of a few other people walking home.

“You sure you don’t want to stay the night?” Amy breaks the silence between them.

After the crazy last days at work, they only now managed to go out and celebrate the next huge step they’re about to take in their relationship. And even though Jake has already been sleeping at her (soon-to-be- _their_ ) place for the past days, it feels like she hasn’t been able to fully enjoy his company in a while.

“You know I do.” He smiles, something bright and beautiful. His whole face is glowing as they stand in the middle of the street lights.

Amy’s heart melts while she looks at him and thinks about how she’s going to see this face _every single day_ , and so from the first moment she opens her eyes, very soon now that they finally managed to pick which one of their apartments they’re going to make their new home.

(Now that Jake let her win their bet.)

“But I need to take care of some things at my place early tomorrow. Y’know, so that we can _move in here together_.” He looks up at the building while he talks, his words matching her thoughts and his smile turning into a full knowing grin when he brings his eyes back on her. Amy kisses it off his face before she finally — very unwillingly — draws away from his loving grip.

She doesn’t insist.

“Send me a text when you arrive,” she says softly.

Jake nods in response. “Will do. See you tomorrow. I love you.” Then starts to walk away.

“Love you too.”

A pang of adoration for this man takes over Amy’s whole being while she watches him leave. Sure, it will probably take some time for them to adjust to this new dynamic, but she can’t help but think that choosing to live together is the best decision they ever made. It’s about time they finally got around to truly doing it.

After all, she never felt less at home in her apartment than when he had to go in witness protection, so far away from her for six whole months.

She realized then that _Jake_ is her one true home.

He turns around when he stops at the crosswalk and she shoots a dreamy smile in his direction. He keeps his gaze stuck on her as he starts to walk again, not looking where he goes. Amy doesn’t pay attention to anything else either, lost in his brown eyes that are shining in the dark. The thought that he should watch out for any potential car coming his way crosses her mind but she doesn’t say anything.

And maybe she should have.

It all happens so fast, none of them sees it coming nor can prevent the inevitable from happening. Indeed, one moment they’re staring at each other, all loving gazes and bright smiles, like they’re lost in their own bubble of happiness, and the next a bus passes by at full speed, hitting Jake with an incredible force.

Amy watches, helpless, while the huge vehicle runs over her boyfriend.

 _“_ _JAKE!”_

Her voice reaches a new high pitch, letting out a cry of shock and despair that pierces through the quiet of what was, until then, such a lovely night. She’s not the one who’s been hurt and yet she can feel her heart aching as if the whole damn world had just fallen apart and fell upon her, _hard_ and without so much as a warning first.

The bus doesn’t even stop in its course, leaving her alone with Jake’s body lying still a few feet away from where he was standing — where he was _beaming_ at her — mere moments ago.

She doesn’t make a move. For two seconds, Amy doesn’t move.

Which really, in comparison to the whole span of time and the universe, is nothing much — barely the blink of an eye.

When your boyfriend just got run over by a bus driving at full speed, though, every one of them counts.

Still, she doesn’t move. She stares from afar, stuck in a trance of stupor and terrified of what she might see if she gets closer. The pool of blood. All the broken bones. The disfigured face.

_The heart that stopped beating._

Tears start streaming down her face as Amy can feel the panic attack build up in her core at the possibility of losing him. They’re supposed to move in together, not to be separated once more. And _forever_ , this time, if he doesn’t — didn’t — make it through this horrible accident.

Jake’s body becomes all but a blur, mingling with the street lights around them while the tears keep coming. She finally rushes to his side and falls down next to him.

“Jake…” Her voice is quieter, softer now when she calls his name. Another pang of unbearable pain takes over her heart and a sob escapes her mouth as she takes in the terrible sight he offers.

It’s somehow worse than what she pictured in her head. His whole body is surrounded with and covered in blood, coming from several open wounds. She finds the one, on his stomach, that looks like the most urgent to take care of and starts applying pressure. She puts all of her focus on the lessons she had on the topic, thinking about nothing else but stopping the bleeding.

This is when she feels it.

The movement of his stomach — up and down, up and down, _up and down_. It’s very weak, barely perceivable even, but it’s there.

 _Jake_ is there, still part of this world and breathing and maybe unconscious but _alive_.

Amy hurries to grab her phone out of her purse with her free hand. It takes her two attempts before she correctly types the 911 number; her fingers are shaking with the mix of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through her veins. It feels like an eternity before someone picks up, and she doesn’t waste any time with useless formalities to give out an address, ask for an ambulance and explain the situation. She’s talking so fast and in-between such short and loud breathing that the person on the other hand of the line has to tell her several times to calm down or repeat what she just said. It takes Amy all of her willpower not to shout all of her fear, anger and desperation at the man.

There is no time to lose.

Eventually — rather quickly, in reality —, the call ends and Amy is left alone with her unconscious boyfriend again. All she has left to do is wait for the ambulance to come while praying it won’t be too late when they do. And, of course, keep pressuring over the wound. _Never let go._

The silence surrounding them is deafening and definitely doesn’t help her relax in any way. It’s quite the opposite, even.

Here, in the quietness of the night with only her thoughts for company, Amy starts going through the events of Jake getting hit by a bus all over again and blaming herself.

She should have told him to stop staring and look at the road ahead. She should have insisted more and have him stay the night — they would be all safe and sound in her apartment right now if she’d done so, most likely loving each other in the intimacy of her ( _their_ ) bedroom. Her mind even takes her as far as thinking she shouldn’t have let him let her win their bet.

She should have just agreed on moving into his apartment, even though picking hers was objectively the most logical choice to make.

In any case, no matter where her mind wanders off to, it always takes her to the same self-deprecating place: _this is all her fault_. If Jake dies, it will be all her fault.

And she’ll never forgive herself if it comes to this.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” she starts talking to him as a way to quiet the demons in her head and hopefully stop imagining the worst. She can still feel his stomach move against her palms, after all. Which means Jake hasn’t given up — not yet. Not _ever_ , hopefully. They still have too much to live for him to leave her now — and leave her like this.

They went through enough months apart to last for a lifetime.

“You need to hang in there, babe, okay? The ambulance’s almost here…” She talks and she talks and she talks, sometimes begging him not to abandon her, others daring him to wake up and others remembering funny moments between the two of them. The tears never stop streaming down her now very tired face, falling onto Jake’s chest and mingling with all the blood already laying there.

It’s only when she can finally hear the sound of the ambulance coming their way that she brings a bloody hand to her cheeks to wash them off a little.

Everything happens rather fast after that. Doctors take over as they ask her to move so that they can take care of Jake’s wounds with tools more effective than Amy’s tiny hands. It’s not the first time she assists in such a scene — as a cop, she’s had her fair share of having to call an ambulance after someone got severely injured.

Never did it happen to the man she loves, though. Or at least, nothing as serious as _this_.

And they weren’t even on duty when the accident occurred.

Amy carefully watches the doctors’ every move with her heart pounding in her chest. She provides them with all the information they might need — Jake’s blood type, his allergies, background, etc. — as well as can’t retain herself from asking questions, to which they always answer vaguely. Especially when she asks if he’s gonna make it.

She’s about to open her mouth to say something else when Jake’s body suddenly starts convulsing, cutting her short. All around her, she sees the doctors rush towards him. They seem to work faster, more urgently. Somewhere in the distance, the ninth of the twelve strikes of midnight chimes into the air.

Amy watches in wild horror as they try to keep her boyfriend still. Her own heart is racing in her chest like it never did before. She’s no expert, but she can still feel the urgency of the situation.

They seem to manage to calm him down after several seconds of palpable stress among the medical team until silence falls upon everyone. Some doctors start to stand up and go back towards the ambulance, while only two of them remain by the body that’s now lying flat and unmoving again. The whole neighborhood is now quiet.

At first, Amy feels relieved that this rush of panic seems over but then one of the doctors comes to her and puts a gentle hand on her shoulder with an apologetic look on his face and she knows he can’t be bringing her good news. Rather the opposite. She knows this look in his eyes, for having had the same one every time she had to talk to a victim’s relative, back at work.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” And with these three words, her whole world crumbles into pieces.

* * *

It only lasts for two minutes. Barely one-hundred and twenty seconds of agony. It’s infinitesimal, in comparison to a lifetime.

It’s actually the time it takes for the sun to vanish when its bottom touches the horizon as it sets near the equator — Amy remembers reading about it in an article someday before going to bed. It’s also the time a parachute jump is supposed to last. The time it takes to complete a full rollercoaster ride.

More personally, it’s the time it takes for Jake to brush his teeth. The time it takes Amy to go down to the stationary store she loves so much, the one right by her apartment. The time it takes her to (methodically) fold all of her clothes on a quiet laundry day. The time it takes her to smoke an entire cigarette when she’s feeling _really_ stressed out.

(And she could use one, right now. A full packet, even.)

The time it took for Jake to understand she was aking him to move in together and say yes.

It’s nothing, really. But it feels like an eternity to Amy. A painfully long and terrifying eternity packed into these two minutes.

She begs the doctors who remained by her side not to give up just yet, during those two minutes. Asks them to try just a bit longer to bring her boyfriend back to life while pleading _him_ to come back to _her_. She cries a lot, too, during these two minutes — desperate tears falling down her face as she keeps his head gently lying on her lap and her hand stroking his emotionless features.

“I love you so, _so_ much,” she whispers between two muffled sobs. She holds him close to her broken heart, presses a soft kiss to his temple.

His skin tastes like blood and her own salty tears.

She can’t begin to imagine how she’ll manage to get through this, if a miracle doesn’t happen and those last two doctors decide to give up on him for good. She can’t even think about going back to her apartment tonight, or any other night for that matter — not without Jake. It would be much too painful. A constant reminder of what they could have been, what they _should_ have been but might never be.

Her place will never become _theirs_.

Amy already knows what a life without Jake looks like. It’s a real nightmare, one that she thought she wouldn’t have to experience ever again when he can back from Florida and, more importantly, when they finally decided on an apartment where to live together. She simply _can’t_ lose him.

It only lasts for two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds — until the miracle happens.

“Wait. I can feel a pulse,” the doctor by her side suddenly exclaims, bringing her out of her morbid thoughts. “I can feel a pulse! He’s coming back!” he repeats, louder this time, and it’s all it takes for the rest of the medical team to rush back towards the now _living_ body to take care of him.

When the man meets Amy’s eyes and smiles at her, the look inside his irises is of hope and not of pity.

“You did it, Ma’am. You brought him back!”

A half-laugh, half-sob escapes her mouth at his words.

Another more down-to-earth doctor remains less enthusiastic and is quick to remind her that this doesn’t mean Jake’s out of danger. His heart might very well fail him again, he insists on telling her so that she gets it while they prep him to take him into the ambulance. His brain might have been damaged too, during those one-hundred and twenty seconds of him being _dead_.

The battle isn’t won yet.

Amy nods. Through her tears (of pain, of relief — both mingle and taste the same), she answers that she understands. Inside of her though, while she looks at her boyfriend, at his still closed eyes and the even bigger pool of blood surrounding him than when she first rushed to him, at his stomach she can now see slightly move up and down, up and down, _up and down_ , a new spark of hope rises.

Maybe the battle isn’t won, but at least the battle goes on, and she more than anyone else knows how much Jake hates to lose.

He just did the unthinkable — he came back to life. He might as well go on and fully recover from this, right?

After all, the man’s always been full of surprises.

* * *

Rosa is the first one who makes it to the hospital after Amy lets the whole squad and Jake’s mother in on the situation. She’s been sitting alone in the waiting room for the past half-hour, de-braiding and re-braiding her hair faster than she ever did while whispering songs from the _Great American Songbook_ when she sees the familiar face of her friend approaching her.

Amy lets out a sigh. She doesn’t think she’s ever been more relieved to see Rosa.

She could use the company — someone to distract her while she waits for her boyfriend to be taken out of surgery. While she waits for an update of any kind about his current state.

Rosa’s face is usually almost impossible to read, yet Amy catches how she winces, even just for a split second, as her eyes scan her face then remain stuck on her clothes for a small while. Amy follows her gaze, looking down at her dress and coat and all the blood — _Jake’s_ blood — that’s covering them. She can feel her heart starting to race in her chest at the sight.

She didn’t realize there was _that much_ of it on her. She didn’t pay much attention to herself before; she had other things to deal with, after all.

But Rosa is quick to recover from her surprise, her expression unreadable again while she takes a seat on the free chair by her side. She doesn’t make any comment about the mess Amy must look like.

“How is he?” she asks instead.

“I don’t know.” Amy takes a deep breath, trying to keep her panic at bay. Now’s not really the time to have a mental breakdown. She closes her exhausted eyes for a second then brings them back on her friend and colleague. “They took him to surgery as soon as we arrived here and I haven’t heard from his doctors’ since.”

Rosa nods in response. “He’s gonna be okay.”

Amy wonders how she does it — how she can remain so calm and sure of herself in such a situation.

She doesn’t answer right away. She brings her gaze back onto the door through which Jake left half-an-hour ago, as if her eyes piercing through it would summon a doctor to come and update them on the situation. But nothing happens, and no-one comes through that door. Amy’s hand reaches for her hair in an instinctive move while she starts braiding it all over again.

Eventually, with her heart heavy in her chest, she voices her concerns out loud. “What if he’s not, though? What if he… he dies?! He already did, Rosa. It was horrible. He wasn’t breathing — for _two whole minutes_ , he wasn’t breathing! The only reason they didn’t give up on him is because I was there and I begged them not to. I’m not here with him right now. So what if they give up again?!” she spirals.

If she managed to stop her tears on her way to the hospital, they’re now back and streaming down her cheeks.

Rosa puts a firm hand on her arm and makes her look up in her direction. Her grip is somehow grounding. Her breathing is steady and slow, and Amy tries to follow it.

“Ames. He _is_ gonna be okay,” she repeats in a soothing voice. “You said so yourself. He already did the hardest part. He _came back from the dead_. So you bet he’s gonna make it through the surgery. He wouldn’t miss on the opportunity to brag about his miraculous survival. He’s gonna wake up, and sometime in the future you’ll find him telling the story of how he was hit by a bus to your grandchildren.”

She shoots him a knowing look.

If the situation were any different, Rosa’s implication that she and Jake will spend their lives together and have children and grandchildren would have probably made her blush, but she’s too overwhelmed by everything else to catch it right now. She can’t even start to think about a proper answer before her friend stands up and gives her a hand.

“You clearly need a distraction. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

She grabs her hand. “But—…” Amy wants to protest. She doesn’t want to leave. _What if the doctors come with an update while they’re not here?!_

“He’s not getting out of there anytime soon.” Rosa seems to be able to read her mind. “And you don’t want to freak him out with all this blood on you when you see him later, right? You know how he is when he sees too much blood. Plus it’s freaking you out too,” she insists, and Amy has no other choice but to agree.

She knows her friend is right, after all. She _does_ need to get rid of this blood — this too-vivid reminder of that terrible accident.

“Thanks, Rosa,” she whispers on their way to the bathroom. Truly, she doesn’t know what she would do without her. First, she helped her go through Jake’s time in Florida, and now this. She might appear as a cold person from the outside but she definitely has one of the best, warmest hearts Amy has ever had the chance to meet. She’s glad to be able to call her a close friend. “For everything.”

The woman simply nods but Amy swears she catches her smile, if only for a second.

* * *

In the end, Jake hasn’t woken up when Amy is allowed to visit him after what the doctors tell the squad and his mother was a successful surgery.

In fact, it takes him two more weeks to fully recover and finally wake up. Two weeks during which Amy never leaves his side, from the moment she first enters his room and finds him peacefully sleeping in his tiny hospital bed, the pools of blood replaced with a number of bandages and other casts all over his injured body, to the day he opens his eyes again.

The constant “bip” of his pulse monitor is buzzing through her ears while she watches over her boyfriend. Rather than irritate her, though, it somehow gives her hope.

It’s the sign that he is indeed alive, even after the horror of what he went through.

This new obstacle they have to overcome is a lot different than the last poor situation Amy and Jake found themselves in, when Jake was stuck in Florida. Sure, here, she knows exactly where he is and can actually see him every day. But back then, she could use her job as a way to distract herself from the truth and tell herself that the harder she works, the sooner he and Holt would be back home.

Now, no amount of work she might put in is able to make him open his eyes. She can’t lose herself in her job to forget about the rest.

All that Amy can do is wait, and hope, and _be there_ for Jake. For the moment when they’ll be reunited again, in some way.

And this is exactly what she does for two weeks, until he eventually comes out of his comatose state.

“Jake!” Her entire being fills with relief as she whispers his name and meets his gaze, finding him staring right back at her for the first time in fifteen days.

She lets herself get lost inside his brown irises. They’re sparkling, and full of the same love and awe with which he was looking at her before the accident occurred.

It’s quite the comforting sight, Jake’s eyes full of adoration for her.

“Hi, babe,” he manages to say after a few seconds of adjusting to his new environment. His voice is hoarse and he winces a little in pain but still; this must be the most beautiful melody Amy’s ever heard.

She holds his hand in hers and can feel his grip on her slightly tighten when a happy sob escapes her mouth, tears of joy and relief streaming down her face.

Amy definitely cried more in the past two weeks than she ever thought she would in a lifetime. But it doesn’t matter, now.

Because _Jake’s back_.

* * *

The sun is setting down outside the hospital room’s window, leaving its place for the moon to shine bright in the young night sky when Amy and Jake find themselves alone again after what has been an exhausting day — full of doctors coming to check on their newly-awake patient and other visits from friends and family. They found a way to somehow both sit on the tiny bed, curled up together.

It’s a little cramped and not very comfortable, but Amy couldn’t care less. There’s no way she’s going away from her boyfriend anytime soon.

Especially not when she has to relive through the day of his accident, telling him the terrible story of how he got hit by a bus and was legally declared dead for two whole minutes as per his request. Jake doesn’t remember any of what happened that night. Other than that, though, it seems like he will get a full recovery — another miracle to add to the list.

When she’s done with her (quick, as she didn’t want to get too much into the details) recollection of the events, he lets out a loud gasp. It makes him cough in pain and Amy winces. She can’t help but hurt for him, studying his face with her gaze piercing right through him. _He’s safe and sound_ , she tries to remind herself while she looks at him.

“Oh my God, babe, you _Tangled_ me back to life!” Jake then exclaims, sounding rather amused than horrified by what she just told him.

His voice is full of fondness, though, and his eyes are sparkling with awe while he stares at her. It startles Amy, who watches him with a confused frown.

“I did… what?!”

“Y’know, in _Tangled_ , when Eugene dies and Rapunzel… you know what, nevermind. We’ll watch it together when we’re back home.” He shoots her a bright knowing grin that makes her heart melt.

 _Home._ He’s going to come back home — _their_ home, where they’ll finally be able to move in together after all these delays — and everything’s gonna be fine again.

They’re gonna settle in and watch movies together and have a happy, _boring_ life as a couple. No more separations.

Amy breaks the small space between their two bodies and brushes his lips with hers. She kisses him tenderly while making sure not to hurt him with the pressure of her mouth against the sensitive skin of his face. His response is soft, yet she can feel his eager in the way he brings a hand to her waist as an invitation to come even closer.

They linger in the moment for a beat before Amy eventually draws away.

“Okay.” She looks deep into Jake’s eyes and an understanding passes between them while she seals this promise of going home — this promise of _we’ll get through this._

_We’re gonna make it just fine._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always truly appreciated :3 You can also come and find me on Tumblr @b99peraltiago if you want!


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